


Make Me Smile

by fadedmoon



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Crack, Fluff, Gun Kink, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedmoon/pseuds/fadedmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10am is a reasonable time to swing by your best friend's place to tell him that it's okay if he has sex with a mass murdering vigilante with every gang member and cop in New York after his head, right?</p><p>-~-<br/><span class="small"> (for the prompt: So at some point, Foggy and Matt reconcile. There's apologies and explanations and hashing-out and airing of grievances (on BOTH sides) and acknowledging the shitty way they both treated each other.</span><br/><span class="small">They decide to reopen Nelson & Murdock (possibly w/ a new secretary) and things are good.</span><br/><span class="small">Except that Foggy had thought Matt was joking when he said he and Frank Castle now had a thing going on, so he's kind of startled/horrified when he comes to Matt's one morning for bro hangout time and finds the fucking Punisher in Matt's bed.</span><br/><span class="small">Bonus if Foggy's worried about the Punisher being abusive to Matt!)</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Smile

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at titles so I just choose the title of whatever song is playing  
> Anyway this was originally posted in 6 parts [ here on the daredevil kink meme ](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/7552.html?thread=14442880#cmt14442880)  
> The POV changes like 6 times and it's super rough and rushed I'm sorry  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Enjoy

Foggy placed the last box down and stood, hands immediately going to his aching back with a groan, "Please, Matt, for the sake of me, the only decent lawyer in this firm, and my back, let's not close up shop again. I never want to touch those damn boxes again for the rest of my feeble existence."  
  
Matt huffed a laugh, a sad wave of nostalgia hitting him at how easy Foggy was speaking to him now, like nothing had happened between them, "Agreed."  
  
It had been hard, Matt admitted, to sort through the mess their friendship had become. It had taken weeks, with Karen often acting as a messenger between them until she cracked and told them to stop behaving like children and speak face to face and she didn't have time to be mediator, Matt, I have an article to write, damnit!  
  
It came to a head, as it always does, in Matt's apartment, with them screaming at each other, insults and accusations and sarcastic remarks, until they were both breathless and tired and had had enough. Wordlessly, they sat down and ordered Thai from the place on the corner, drank a few beers, and talked, man to man, everything out in the open.  
  
Well, almost everything.  
  
"So, before we do this," Foggy started, sinking down into one of the chairs lining the wall, "Is there anything else you need to tell me? Don't spare me, dude. We have a new pact now; tell each other everything, sparing no gory details. Right?"  
  
"Right." Matt nodded. He licked his lips and adjusted his grip on his cane, preparing for what he was about to say next.  
  
He hadn't told Foggy that night, because he wanted to check with Frank first, make sure he was comfortable with Foggy knowing about their relationship. Matt was almost 100% certain Frank wouldn't mind at all, but Matt was hellbent on doing this one right, and that meant getting consent before telling anyone of their relationship, even if it also meant breaking his pact with Foggy with this one exception, and wasn't this a vicious cycle to be in?  
  
Thankfully, when asked, Frank simply grunted and shrugged one shoulder before going back to placing kisses along Matt's jaw. In Frank-speak, that meant, of course it's okay, dumbass. So now, here he was.  
  
"Right." Matt repeated, "Well, actually Foggy, there is one thing. And it's important to me, so I want you to take this seriously."  
  
He waited a moment, waited to feel the air being displaced as Foggy nodded once.  
  
"...Frank Castle- The Punisher- He and I... I guess you could say we're dating now."  
  
Matt waited, waited for another round of yelling and Foggy being unnecessarily protective and demanding Matt stop this nonsense, but Matt didn't _want_ to stop, Frank made him _happy_ , and- and-  
  
And Foggy... was _laughing_.  
  
"Yeah! Right!" Foggy was clutching at his sides, almost doubled-over from laughing, "You-You're fucking _The Punisher!_ Oh, man, you almost had me there-"  
  
Matt opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure how to go about convincing Foggy that this wasn't a joke. Except, of course, that was when there was a quiet knock at their door; interviews for their new receptionist position was today. Matt would have to tell Foggy later at some point, if he got the chance.

 

\--*--

 

The first time Foggy saw a flash of purple just below the collar of Matt's shirt, he shrugged it off. The vigilante had told him he'd taken on a big drug dealer and his two goons the night before, so he was bound to be covered in bruises, right? No big deal (except it was a big deal, it still made Foggy's blood boil, but they'd made a deal, a pact - Foggy would leave Matt be with his reckless vigilante crap if Matt would tell him everything and also avoid fighting undead ninjas that could very well kill him, also anything that could very well kill him, Matt, don't you fucking die on me, you hear?).  
  
The second time, it was because the heater had broken at their office, stuck on the highest temperature and no way to turn it down because Matt had snapped off the little twisty thing, and Foggy couldn't even remember the name of the little twisty thing because he was _sweltering_ and five seconds from stripping down and asking Henry, their new secretary, to pour cold water over him. Matt had groaned, loosened his tie and undone the top few buttons, and Foggy saw it. A bruise on his collarbone, just under his throat. Except, Matt hadn't gone out to kick ass for days (Foggy had put him under house arrest until his fractured rib had healed) so... what? Foggy had squinted his eyes and oh my God, were those _teeth marks_?!  
  
"...Matt? Why are there teeth marks on your-"  
  
But Matt was already blushing and tugging his shirt closed again and stammering, "Nothing, it's nothing." And Foggy understood.  
  
"Okay, I get it, you're under house arrest so you gotta let off steam another way, huh?" He winked, even though Matt probably couldn't tell, the air was so solid, "So, who's the lucky lady and should I be worried about her cannibalistic tendencies?"  
  
Matt shook his head, still partly embarrassed but at least now there was an amused quirk to his lips. "Actually, Foggy-"  
  
"Client!" Henry's voice rang out, and both of their heads snapped up towards the door.  
  
"Back to work, lover boy." Foggy teased as they both stood to greet their new potential client, and the conversation before was forgotten.  
  
The third time, the bruise was no where near Matt's neck or chest. It was on his wrist. An almost perfect circle of mottled purple and blue that was revealed when Matt tugged back his sleeves to wash his hands.  
  
"...You alright, Matt? You didn't mention anything about your wrist this morning."  
  
Matt just shrugged, dried his hands, and they left the bathroom together.  
  
Damnit. That meant Matt was keeping something from him. And _that_ meant they were due for some serious bro hangout time.  
  
Which was how Foggy found himself standing at Matt's bedroom door, microwave popcorn in one hand, four pack of beer in the other, and a (priceless) horrified expression on his face.  
  
Frank Castle was in Matt's bed.  
  
No, scratch that, The _freakin'_ Punisher was lounging on Matt's bed, shit-eating smirk on his face and both of his hands tucked behind his head, like he didn't even care he was freakin' _naked_ and oh, God, Foggy needed to go wash his eyes thoroughly.  
  
He staggered back away from the door just as the bathroom one swung open and Matt emerged, also naked as the day he was born, and wow, do people just not wear clothes in this place any more?  
  
"Foggy?" Matt froze, somewhere between confused and panicked, and Foggy looked over at him, and _damn_.  
  
Matt's body was peppered in purple, from his jaw and neck, across his chest, down his abdomen, he even had some on his _thighs_ and Foggy was suddenly very, very angry. He threw the bro hangout time snacks onto the couch and stepped closer to his friend.  
  
"What the _fuck_ , Matt? What- What the _fuck_?!"  
  
Matt had the telltale beginnings of a pout on his face, the indignant kind that said 'what did _I_ do?'  
  
The brunet shuffled his feet, hands now mercifully clasped in front of his crotch, and muttered quietly, "I told you we were together, Foggy."  
  
Foggy sputtered, "I thought you were _joking_!"  
  
"Why would you think that? I told you to take it seriously."  
  
" _Matt_ , for Christ's sake-"  
  
A deep voice from behind him snapped, "Language. Don't take the Lord's name in vain, Franklin."  
  
Foggy whirled around to find The Punisher, now thankfully less naked, wearing jeans and a dark shirt, and holding some bundled up clothes in his hand. His eyes, which were locked with Foggy's, seemed alight with laughter, even though his mouth was a firm line. He threw the clothes past Foggy, which Matt easily caught and began tugging on.  
  
"Thanks." Matt mumbled, smiling slightly, and Foggy looked from Matt, to Frank, to Matt again, exasperated.  
  
"I- I can't- Matt, what the _fuck_ -"  
  
But then Frank was ghosting past him, sliding an arm easily around Matt's waist and pulling him close and up and-  
  
Well, if anyone had told Foggy he was going to watch Daredevil and The Punisher make out before this, he would have laughed himself to an early grave.  
  
He was speechless as Frank drew back, Matt attempting to follow him, chasing his lips by going on his tiptoes, which made Frank _laugh_ , which was a weird sound to hear.  
  
"See you later, Red." Frank murmured, before casting Foggy a wink and that stupid shit-eating smirk again. And then he was gone.  
  
Matt's face was bright red. Foggy'd never seen him blush so much before.  
  
The blond blinked and sank down on the edge of the coffee table. His voice was faint when he spoke, "I am... distressed."

 

\--*--

 

"How'd it go?" Frank asked later that night, as he tried to distract Matt from work by playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.  
  
It was working. Matt squirmed slightly and half-heartedly swatted at Frank's thigh for him to stop. With a huff, he sat back away from the pages his little feelers were examining, defeated, "How'd _what_ go?"  
  
Frank cocked an eyebrow, the annoyance evident in Matt's voice indicating that the aftermath of The Incident didn't go well, "That bad, huh?"  
  
Matt scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh, "No, no, it wasn't- He just-" Matt struggled with the words for a moment, facing away from Frank completely, and boy, that _really_ wasn't a good sign.  
  
Frank moved, sliding his hand from the back of Matt's neck around to his shoulder and shifting closer, "What is it?" Frank asked, keeping his voice soft and quiet, "Is it 'cause I'm a man? It's too soon, after everything? Or 'cause I'm a, you know, wanted mass murderer?"  
  
The younger gave a weak laugh and shook his head, "No. It's- He thinks you're... hurting me." A shrug and a gesture to the faded yellow bruise around his wrist, and to all the fresh ones on Matt's bare torso. Frank looked him over, his blood beginning to sing at the sight of all of those marks. _His_ marks, because Matt was _his_ , before he remembered, now is not the time.  
  
Matt mumbled, "I can't tell if your heart rate is increasing 'cause you're angry or turned on."  
  
Frank smiled, "Bit of both."  
  
A small smile crept on Matt's face, before he turned towards Frank, tucking his feet under himself on the couch and leaning heavily into the older man's side.  
  
"I told him you weren't. Told him it was okay. He didn't believe me, completely." Matt sighed, turning his face and burying it in the crook of Frank's neck.  
  
Frank made a soft sound of complaint; Matt's nose was _freezing_ , what the fuck. He threaded his fingers through Matt's soft hair in a comforting gesture, nonetheless, and Matt's voice came muffled and broken a moment later, "I don't know what to do, Frank. He's my best friend. I've already lost him countless times, I don't want to- I don't want him to leave me again."  
  
And didn't that just make Frank's cold, dead heart clench? "It's okay, Red. Y'here me, sweetheart? I'm gonna make it okay. Promise. You two'll be right as rain in no time, 'kay? I'm gonna make it better."  
  
A sniffle, and then Matt was pulling back slightly to peer up at him, "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"  
  
Frank froze, staring at Matt in shock. Of course he wasn't gonna fucking kill his sweetheart's best fucking friend, what the-  
  
But Matt had that little telltale quirk of his lips that meant he was trying to be funny, and Frank narrowed his eyes, "You're a little shit, you know that, right?"  
  
Matt grinned, began to reply, but was cut off abruptly by Frank standing, grabbing him around the waist, and throwing him over his shoulder. The elder walked, with purpose, to the bedroom as Matt giggled his way through an insincere apology for being a little shit.

\--~--

Frank sat in the booth farthest from the door of the dingy little café he was in, drumming his fingers against the edge of the table and beginning to get impatient.  
  
He had left a(n admittedly ominous) note for Franklin to find, ordering him to meet him here at 20:00 on the dot, and the little fucker was thirteen minutes late. Frank huffed, picking up the tiny little coffee cup and swallowing down half of it's contents. If he took longer than twenty minutes, Frank was gonna go out and track down the marshmallow/sunshine hybrid (Matt's words) himself. They were going to have this talk, one way or another.  
  
Six and a half minutes later, the door to the café opened, and the blond mop of hair belonging to his sweetheart's best friend appeared. Foggy briefly scanned the café, but since the only other people in here were the waitress, a little old lady, and Frank himself, it didn't take long for those eyes to fall onto him.  
  
The blond hesitated, clearly debating whether he should just make a run for it, before heaving a sigh and making his way over, sliding into the seat opposite Frank.  
  
"You're late." Frank stated, before raising the coffee cup to his lips and emptying the remaining contents.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry for putting off my own murder for a few minutes." Foggy snapped back, on edge.  
  
Frank held back a grin. Really, that was just adorable. "I'm not here to kill you, Franklin. I'm here to talk."  
  
Foggy still looked suspicious, and the way he was shifting around in his seat clearly indicated he'd rather be anywhere but here. Honestly, you kill a couple dozen assholes and suddenly people don't trust being in your company.  
  
"Coffee?" The waitress asked, sidling up to their table and holding the server slightly aloft.  
  
Frank turned to her and smiled, "Please, ma'am, thank you."  
  
She filled Frank's cup and the empty one he'd requested before Foggy had turned up, and then left them in an uncomfortable silence.  
  
Foggy had relaxed minutely, but still didn't meet Frank's eyes when he said, "So. Talking."  
  
With a hum, Frank took a sip of the fresh coffee, and mentally prepared himself for this. The Talk. "Mhm. About me and Matt. Fucking."  
  
The blond sputtered, eyes wide and surprised but at least they were meeting Frank's now, "Do you have to be so- _vulgar_ about it-"  
  
"All I said was fucking, I could've said a lot worse-"  
  
"Please, God, don't, this is bad enough as it is without you-"  
  
"Reminding you of-"  
  
"You were _naked_."  
  
"That tends to happen when people fu- have sexual intercourse."  
  
Foggy groaned, scrunching his eyes closed, "That's even worse than fucking."  
  
Frank grinned, lopsided and pleased, and chuckled quietly as Foggy began to shake his head, as though trying to rid himself of the thought of the two vigilante's having sex. The smile dropped as soon as Foggy opened his eyes to peer wearily at the man opposite him. Right. Time to get serious.  
  
"Matt told me you think I'm hurting him."  
  
Foggy froze for a moment before sighing heavily, "Yeah, well. He's covered head to toe in bruises, you're The freakin' Punisher, and in case you've forgotten, he's been hurt by you superhero, vigilante types before. And not... in the physical sense."  
  
Frank nodded, "Elektra."  
  
Wincing, Foggy nodded back, "Yeah. And I mean- She died, in Matt's arms, and he was heartbroken, and- You're manipulating him, making him think he needs you to, I dunno, fill an Elekra-shaped void or something, and that's fucked up and you're gonna hurt him even more when you get sick of him needing you and-" Foggy slammed his palm down on the table, and damn, this kid had guts, "If and when you leave him even more broken than when you found him, I promise you I will find you and I will fucking rip you apart with my own damn hands, do you understand me? I'll fucking kill you."  
  
Considering Frank could probably bench press this small marshmallow/sunshine man as easy as lifting a feather, Frank had to admit, he was pretty intimidating. And apparently, the two had more things in common than he had thought; they were both willing to die for, kill for, Matthew Murdock.  
  
Frank nodded slowly, raising his cup to his lip once more, "Duly noted."  
  
They stayed in the café for a further seventeen minutes, in which Frank informed Foggy that no, he wasn't doing this to manipulate Matt, and had no intention of hurting him (at least in ways Matt didn't want to be hurt). He also told him that Matt was now eating better, sleeping longer, and generally being less of a reckless, self-destructive fool, and admitted that he couldn't take all the praise, as the reconciliation between the two lawyers had also helped Matt immensely.  
  
He could tell Foggy was still somewhat displeased, but with Matt for a best friend, Frank figured that he'd always be worried, no matter what.  
  
All in all, the mission was a success. Foggy had given his tentative approval as they left the café together.  
  
"I still mean what I said, though." He added on afterwards, "You hurt him, I'll hurt you."  
  
Frank smiled, "Sure, buddy. Oh, and there's one more thing, about me and Matt." He began walking backwards, hands buried in the pockets of his huge coat.  
  
The lawyer's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Yeah? What?"  
  
Frank turned, and threw over his shoulder, as casually as he could muster, "I love him."

 

\--*--

 

Matt grunted, hips twitching against Frank's firm grip on his thigh, his own hands desperately clutching at the back of the couch and Frank's shoulder.  
  
Frank had come home late last night after meeting with Foggy. He didn't say a word about it, had simply kissed Matt as sweetly and as gently as Matt had ever been kissed, and had taken the younger to bed. Matt thinks that was the first time Frank had made love to him, slowly, reverently, so unlike their previous times.  
  
Any and all thoughts about Foggy's anger and disappointment had been swept away by Frank's soft mouth on his, their hands tangled together by Matt's head, Frank rocking into him gently, Frank telling him that he needed him, that he loved him. Matt had come with a muffled sob of Frank's name, eyes wet and soul aching.  
  
But that had been last night.  
  
Now, it wasn't even 10am, and Matt had already come twice since waking up in Frank's arms. The elder had woken apparently insatiable, hands and mouth barely leaving Matt's skin at all. Not that Matt was complaining of course, not with Frank's lips wrapped around his flushed dick and two fingers buried deep inside him. Definitely not complaining.  
  
Frank shifted slightly, causing the cool grip of the gun strapped to the elder's thigh to press against the skin of Matt's calf. Matt's cock twitched, and he groaned, hoping Frank wouldn't notice.  
  
He did, of course. I mean, how couldn't he? His mouth was full of Matt's cock; he noticed every twitch, every spurt of precome.  
  
Pulling back, Frank grinned up at him as his fingertips curled deliciously against his sweet spot, "Y'know, for someone who claims to hate guns, y'sure don't seem to mind mine."  
  
Matt scowled through a rising blush on his cheeks and growled, "Shut up and suck me."  
  
Frank laughed softly, but did as he was commanded, head dipping down to take the head of Matt's dick into his mouth once more.  
  
Through the relieved moan he then let out, Matt heard the distinct click and scrape of Frank's gun being drawn out of it's holster. He let out a shuddering exhale, heart rate sky-rocketing impossibly faster.  
  
"Frank-" He began, but cut off with a hiss as Frank pressed the ice cold barrel of the gun against his abdomen. He could feel Frank's knuckles at his hip, could feel how tightly he was holding the grip, could feel his thumb caressing the hammer the same way the tip of his index was caressing his prostate every time he roughly fucked his fingers into his hole, and suddenly Matt was on the very edge, gasping out sweet little "ah, ah"s with every thrust, every suck at the tip of his cock, and, oh, Gods-  
  
"I'm- _Frank_ , I'm co-coming, _oh_ -!"  
  
By the time he came back around, Frank had striped his chest with white and was now cleaning up both of their messes with a damp washcloth. Gods, had he really blacked out for so long?  
  
Matt stirred with an exhausted groan, trying to swat away Frank's hands and missing entirely, too fucked out to concentrate on where anything was.  
  
"I hate you." He mumbled against the couch cushion, "You've broken me."  
  
He heard Frank laugh, deep and soft, and then there was a silk blanket being draped over him, "Love you, too, choirboy."  
  
There was then the sound of clothing rustling, and Matt forced himself to concentrate just enough to know that Frank was now wearing underwear, along with that damn thigh holster.  
  
"I'll make us some breakfast. Gotta keep your strength up if we wanna make it to four."  
  
Matt groaned, but still couldn't help the grin that spread on his bitten-red lips at the thought.  
  
"Eggs and toast."  
  
Frank ruffled his hair on his way to the kitchen, "Yeah, I know."

 

\--*--

 

10am is a reasonable time to swing by your best friend's place to tell him that it's okay if he has sex with a mass murdering vigilante with every gang member and cop in New York after his head, right?  
  
Well, it was a bit late to go back, anyway, seeing as Foggy was already slotting his key to Matt's into the lock. There was a brief moment of panic as he remembered the last time he simply walked into Matt's, but what was the likelihood of that torture ever happening again?  
  
The smell of toasted bread and coffee hit him as soon as he stepped through the threshold, and he breathed a sigh of relief; you can't fuck and cook breakfast at the same time.  
  
"Matt!" He called out as he walked through the hallway to the living area, "It's Foggy. Obviously. Your boyfriend left me a creepy message and we talked and- Damn it!"  
  
The entire universe was against him. That was the only explanation for why Matt was currently obviously very naked under the thin silk blanket he was wrapped up in, looking dazed and sated and, well. Like he'd been well and thoroughly fucked.  
  
"Good morning, Franklin. Coffee?"  
  
Foggy tore his wide, horror-filled eyes away from the gun on the table (he didn't even want to know) over to Frank standing by the stove, spatula in one hand, Captain America coffee mug in the other. He couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to the empty gun holster strapped to his thickly muscled thigh, just as he couldn't stop his face from heating and his mouth from babbling.  
  
"Actually- I just remembered, I have to... water my plants- Yeah, they're- they're super thirsty, I better- Bye!"  
  
He was out of Matt's apartment in a flash, making a promise to himself to _always_ call ahead before visiting Matt from now on.

  
  
\--*--

  
  
Frank set down the plate of fried eggs (over-easy, like there's any other way to make fried eggs) on toast on the coffee table in front of Matt, who was now sitting up and looking less like his brains had melted out of his dick. Shame. He'd fix that soon.  
  
It was also a shame that Foggy had fled so quickly. He had found he liked watching the blond squirm and blush, but no matter. There would be time later for embarrassing the lawyer with PDA. Plenty of time. Frank grinned at all of the possibilities.  
  
"Why'd Foggy not stick around? He was here for all of two seconds." Matt asked around a mouthful of food.  
  
Frank shrugged, settling back against the couch and nursing his mug (a joke present from Matt) of coffee on his lap, thumb tracing over the silver star in the middle of Captain America's shield, "Maybe he's team Iron Man."  
  
Matt snorted so hard he choked on his toast.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, yes, I did avoid writing my current stucky WIP for weeks and then wrote this instead. You're welcome, world.  
> [ Come @ me on tumblr ](http://xstucky.tumblr.com/)


End file.
